After leaving the exam hall, Wen Qi moved with a brisk, wind-like pace, quickly exiting the building and returning to the main lobby. At this moment, his mood was at its peak of elation, as if every cell in his body was joyfully leaping and cheering. He had performed excellently in this assessment, brimming with full confidence and boundless anticipation for his results, as if the rewards promised by the system were already warmly beckoning him.
The staff in the lobby, seeing Wen Qi emerge so swiftly, couldn’t help but show a hint of confusion in their eyes. They silently speculated: this young man is in such a hurry—he must have failed. After all, in their understanding, Wen Qi was so young that even if he had taken the exam through some special means, the chances of success were slim.
At the association’s entrance, a crowd of people waiting for examinees had already gathered. There were parents with faces etched in anxiety, wives with expressions so tense their faces twitched slightly, and children with eyes full of hope, their small hands nervously twisting the hems of their clothes. Their moods varied. Some were burning with impatience, silently praying for their loved ones to pass smoothly; others appeared relatively calm, firmly believing in their relatives’ exceptional abilities; and some were as jittery as ants on a hot pan, pacing back and forth, their eyes fixed on the entrance without a moment’s pause.
Although there were still over twenty minutes until the exam ended, they couldn’t wait to crowd around the gate, staring intently inside, hoping to catch the first glimpse of a familiar figure. The atmosphere among the crowd was thick with tension and anticipation, with people whispering and murmuring to each other.
When they saw Wen Qi come out, everyone’s face showed an involuntary look of puzzlement. Their eyes were filled with confusion and bewilderment, and they began to mutter to themselves.
“The assessment shouldn’t be over yet, right? Why is this young man coming out?” a frowning parent said in a low voice.
“Exactly, how irresponsible! Even those with terrible scores grit their teeth and hold on until the very last moment, but he just leaves early,” another parent chimed in, their tone laced with obvious displeasure.
“Probably knows he did terribly and can’t bear to stay inside anymore,” someone speculated sarcastically, a disdainful expression on their face.
“I bet this kid is going to get a harsh scolding from his family later, maybe even a beating!” a middle-aged man said gleefully, as if he could already see Wen Qi’s impending miserable fate.
They all assumed that coming out this early meant nothing good, and expected a fierce argument and harsh reprimand to follow. So, with a mindset of watching the drama unfold, everyone’s eyes were fixed on Wen Qi, eagerly anticipating what theatrical scene would happen next.
But Wen Qi, after a quick check, simply prepared to leave. Seeing the crowd blocking his way, he said bluntly and loudly, “Move aside!”
Those waiting for the spectacle knew they couldn’t block the path, so they reluctantly made way. Their gazes followed Wen Qi closely, all expecting the “good show” about to unfold.
However, Wen Qi remained remarkably calm and composed, showing no sign of unease or shame under the crowd’s curious and skeptical stares. He walked steadily, not looking back, and soon disappeared around the corner.
During the long wait, everyone had been eagerly anticipating some excitement, but Wen Qi seemed utterly indifferent to their stares and malicious guesses, and no parent rushed out to scold him. Only after Wen Qi vanished did the crowd give up in disappointment.
“Ah, what a shame, no drama to watch,” someone couldn’t help complaining, their face full of regret.
“Wasted all this time waiting, thought we’d see a joke,” another muttered, looking thoroughly let down.
“Forget it, we were just here for a laugh. Let’s keep waiting for our own people,” an old man said with a helpless shake of his head, turning his gaze back to the association’s gate.
But their disappointment was brief; soon, they refocused on waiting, since the exam was truly about to end.
“I wonder how my child did,” a mother said anxiously, her eyes full of hope and worry, her hands unconsciously twisting together.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. We have to trust the kids,” the father beside her comforted, gently patting her shoulder.
The crowd’s thoughts were once again consumed by concern for their loved ones, and their earlier curiosity about Wen Qi gradually faded, leaving only the hope that the person they were waiting for would come out soon with good news.
Shortly after Wen Qi left, the exams inside all ended. The doors of the three exam halls opened simultaneously, and over a thousand people surged out like a tide, creating a grand spectacle. The sound of footsteps and chatter mingled together, like a bustling marketplace.
Fortunately, thorough preparations had been made. Security personnel stood ready, and numerous Pokémon were in position, effectively maintaining order, preventing the massive commotion from turning into chaos.
Those who came out of the advanced exam hall eagerly hoped to exchange words with Wen Qi. They scanned the crowd, searching for his figure, but after waiting a long time, he didn’t appear. Finally, a staff member downstairs told them, “That young man left long ago, probably at least twenty minutes early.”
Hearing this, everyone showed regretful expressions.
“Ah, what a shame, I wanted to chat with him,” someone sighed, their eyes full of disappointment.
“Looks like we’ll have to wait until the results are posted to see if we get another chance to meet him,” another shrugged helplessly, turning to leave.
Realizing they had missed their opportunity, they stopped dwelling on it and dispersed, each going their separate ways.
Typically, after the assessment, results would be available the next day. Usually, by noon the following day, the list of successful candidates would be published on the official website. It would also be posted on the wall outside the association, and some people preferred to check in person. Those who passed could then come to the association to collect their badges and certificates, officially starting a new journey.
After finishing their exams, Zhu Qiang, Zhu Xiu, and Zhu Ximing left the association one after another. As they exited the gate, they saw their anxiously waiting wives and grandfather outside.
Old Master Zhu, seeing his son, grandson, and granddaughter emerge, immediately broke into a joyful smile. He walked forward with slightly unsteady steps and asked with concern, “The exam was tough, you must be tired, right? The sun is a bit harsh here—let’s head back to the hotel first.”
His gaze firm, he continued, “As for the exam, good or bad, let’s not discuss it for now. Talking about it won’t change anything, and it’ll only affect your mood. We’ll talk when the results come out.”
Zhu Ximing’s wife had been about to ask something, but upon hearing the old man’s words, she felt he was right. She silently admired his experience, knowing it was best to ask nothing now—that was the best approach for them.
Hearing the old man’s words, Zhu Qiang, Zhu Xiu, and Zhu Ximing all breathed a sigh of relief. Zhu Qiang, in particular, had been affected by Wen Qi’s performance and felt he hadn’t done well. Zhu Xiu was in a slightly better state, having been less impacted. As for Zhu Ximing, he had little confidence in the advanced exam and had only come to familiarize himself with the process. Though he knew he wouldn’t pass, a small part of him still hoped for a miracle. Yet he was also aware it was nearly impossible—he didn’t know his written test score, but on the final energy cube test, he had only scored fifty points, not even passing, making the chances of success slim.
The group walked in silence toward the hotel. The sunlight cast long shadows behind them. Along the way, the three tacitly avoided mentioning Wen Qi, as if his name had become taboo. After all, Wen Qi’s outstanding performance at the association had been too unsettling to talk about.
Zhu Qiang kept his head down, lost in thought, occasionally lifting it to look ahead before quickly lowering it again, his steps heavy. Zhu Xiu gently bit her lip, deep in contemplation, a hint of confusion in her eyes. Zhu Ximing stared at the sky, letting out a long sigh, the wrinkles on his forehead seeming to deepen. Their moods were like the changeable weather—sometimes clear, sometimes overcast.